


Dangerous lessons

by Thatkindoffangirl



Series: Metal Gear Solid POV challenge [5]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M, Shibari, no explicit sex just so you know beforehand and don't cry too hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1846243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkindoffangirl/pseuds/Thatkindoffangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When people asked him where he’d learned shibari, Kaz always talked about his youth in Japan. At times he recalled how, as a teenager, he used to smuggle forbidden books out of his aunt’s secret stash to learn to please his conspicuous herd of girlfriends; on other occasions, he told the story of this gorgeous lady that, during his time in the JSF, he’d often sneak out to have sex with; sometimes, if whoever he was talking to was being particularly annoying, he made this former lover a man, reveling in the uneasiness of his listener as he spurted out graphic detail after graphic detail. None of the stories were, of course, true. Much to everyone’s surprise (not that anyone knew) Kaz had learned shibari in the USA.<br/>---</p><p>Written for the POV challenge. Prompt is Ocelhira/shibari demonstration/Kaz's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous lessons

When people asked him where he’d learned shibari, Kaz always talked about his youth in Japan. At times he recalled how, as a teenager, he used to smuggle forbidden books out of his aunt’s secret stash to learn to please his conspicuous herd of girlfriends; on other occasions, he told the story of this gorgeous lady that, during his time in the JSF, he’d often sneak out to have sex with; sometimes, if whoever he was talking to was being particularly annoying, he made this former lover a man, reveling in the uneasiness of his listener as he spurted out graphic detail after graphic detail. None of the stories were, of course, true. Much to everyone’s surprise (not that anyone knew) Kaz had learned shibari in the USA.

Explaining the reason had never been a simple task. This had partly been a matter of pride — Japanese people were very protective of their own traditions and Kaz (blond hair, blue eyes, way too proud to accept his birth as a gaijin) never wanted what others made him beg to have. It had also partly been that, in his teenager years, Kaz’s interest in sex had been, to say the least, scarce . It was only as a freshman that he’d stopped being satisfied with the under-the-table trading of pornography, and he found himself yearning from some action in the field. He’d made up for the time lost, that much was for sure; Japan and America were very different countries, he’d discovered, and the West, far from the hindrance he’d faced in the East, considered his mixed origin so exotic that everyone was thrilled at the idea of getting a taste of him, even for just a night. It was during one of these nights that a much richer, much older American woman had introduced him to shibari. Kaz had never forgotten.

Given his story, he wasn’t surprised by the intimate, almost protective connection he felt with the practice. He was glad that it was not something he was asked about often, so when the Boss’s old friend had brought it up to him, Kaz was relieved that he’d at least expressed no interest in knowing why or when he had learned it.

Ocelot, if he recalled the name correctly (and he usually did), had ambushed him during one of his visits, his expression as neutral and unreadable as ever, asking him if he knew the technique and then, without further questioning, if he could teach him. Kaz had been surprised to find himself nodding back in response. It wasn’t something he would have usually done (even less with a man Kaz had spoken to no more than a couple of times)  and yet he hadn’t turned Ocelot down. Truth being told, it was one of the Boss’s requests that they would try and get along as well as possible, and if the messed-up Russian man version of a team bonding experience was learning rope bondage, who was he to refuse?

Kaz had regretted it soon enough. It wasn’t that Ocelot was a rude student — everything about his behavior was, on the contrary, so extremely gentle that Kaz was sure he wanted to show it was nothing but a fad — but his cold stare and barely visible grin were making the interaction more and more uncomfortable. It didn’t help that he seemed to know a lot more about shibari than he’d led Kaz to believe. He wasn’t outright stating it, of course (he seemed to know that Kaz would have punched his straight, angular nose right in if he had been) but he’d made so many passing comments on how ‘the nodes might have needed to be tightened more’, or how ‘the rope probably should have be twisted around once again’, that before it even registered in his brain Kaz had found himself yelling: “If you are so good at this, then why don’t you show me yourself?”

He had regretted that even sooner.

“Are you going to explain? Or are you just admiring the scenery?” Kaz asked eventually.

Ocelot placed another chair in front of Kaz’s own, twirling the safety knife they’d brought with them as he straddled the chair backwards. His legs were spread wide open, and, as the blade spun in what  — Kaz assumed  — was supposed to be a carelessly menacing fashion, he managed to look like nothing short of a dumbass.

A dumbass, however, that had gone to great lengths to have Kaz tied up in the most remote room of motherbase, and since he didn’t seem intentioned in the reason, it had fallen on Kaz to make the first move.

“There’s nothing to explain,” Ocelot answered in a casual tone. “I just wanted to chat where no one would disturb us."

It was obvious he was trying to get on Kaz’s nerves, and Kaz was unapologetically allowing him to succeed.

“Just an heads up, cowboy,” he said. “Next time try going with ‘Hi Kaz, can we chat where no one would disturb us?’.“

Ocelot laughed. He twirled the knife once more before launching it into the air (Kaz held his breath, hoping to see it fall straight into the man’s eyes) then catching it with the other hand.

“Would you have let me tie you up then?” he asked, threading his finger through a hole in the blade to spin it around.

“I don’t know—” Kaz curled up his lips, pretending to think “—is that something you always do when you chat with people?”

“Sometimes,” Ocelot said. “When I can’t cut their ankles to make sure they don’t run away.”

Kaz grimaced, taking a mental note to tell the Boss to choose better friends.

“I really don’t have a problem with traitors,” Ocelot said, as if continuing a topic he had left hanging.

“I’d figured that much out myself,” Kaz mumbled.

“In our line of work, betrayal is something you always have to take into account." He swapped his knife-hand again. "It’s not about who betrays, but when and why. You’re a businessman, Kaz, I know you’re aware of this.”

He didn’t seem to be asking for opinions so Kaz gave him none.

“Now, about John. John’s not a stupid man, but he does have a tendency to trust the wrong people.”

I’d figured that out myself, Kaz thought again, but this time he didn’t say it. Instead, he pulled out his most smug expression and asked, “Chip on your shoulder?”

To his surprise, Ocelot stopped the twirling. He held the knife up, observing the blade against the light on the ceiling before dismounting his chair and walking slowly towards him. The echo of his spurs in the almost empty room sent a chill down the nape of Kaz’s neck. Deep down, he was sure Ocelot had no intention of doing anything to him. If there was one thing he seemed to value, it was John’s opinion, and John’s opinion was that they should get friendly, not cut each other’s throats. On the other hand, Ocelot didn’t seem like he intended to aim that high. Kneeling in front of him, he was now resting his elbows on Kaz’s knees, the knife dangling just above Kaz’s lap in a precarious position that made him inadvertently shrink into himself.

“John and I have a mutual understanding.” Ocelot said. He looked straight at Kaz, and Kaz had to bite his lips to keep himself from begging him to look back at what he was doing. “He doesn’t trust me not to betray him, he trusts me not to screw him up too badly when I do.”

He smiled, then let the knife go.

Kaz bit his lips harder to suppress a scream. He looked at the blade fall down like in slow motion, the tip aimed straight for his thigh, incredibly aware that, his hands tied behind his back and his knees caught under Ocelot’s elbows, there was nowhere he could move. He tried anyway. He pushed up with his feet, trying to make the chair topple to the side, but Ocelot shifted his weight, keeping him still as his he reached for the knife and caught the handle just before it landed.

“You, on the other hand,” Ocelot continued, his grin even wider, “I really think John might be deluded enough to think you have his best interests at heart.”

Kaz’s heart was racing. He looked at the knife, then at Ocelot again, and was glad that his sunglasses allowed him to hide his expression. He knew exactly what Ocelot was talking about, and he had the feeling Ocelot knew that. Confessing was not an option. Sure, Ocelot seemed to already know a lot more than he said, but — he looked at the fold of his uniform, trying to catch the hint of a recorder hidden underneath — it was never a smart move to state anything outright.

“I would never—” he tried to say. Ocelot pressed the tip of the knife to his thigh, not deep enough to cut him, but enough that he could feel it piercing through and jump in response.

“Cut the crap,” he said. He was not looking at Kaz anymore, seemingly transfixed by his work on Kaz’s leg. The hand he held the knife with was steady as usual, but the other one was holding Kaz’s knee with way more strength than needed. His breathing had become heavier. If Kaz hadn’t known better, he’d have said Ocelot was enjoying the situation too m— actually, Kaz was sure Ocelot was enjoying the situation too much.

“I’m not telling you not to betray him—” Ocelot dragged the blade along Kaz’s thigh, leaving a small hole where he’d stuck it in before, his other hand following the same path, and soon they both were too close to his crotch for Kaz’s comfort. “—I’m telling you that when you do, and we both know you will, you’d better make sure John comes out of it relatively unharmed.”

Kaz bit his lips. The tip of the knife was now pressing against his balls. Ocelot looked up again.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

It was a lot harder for Kaz to keep his voice steady this time.

“I really have no intention to—”

Ocelot pushed the tip further in. Kaz let out a gulp.

“Do you understand?” Ocelot asked again.

Kaz nodded.

It was only when the pressure on his crotch relaxed that Kaz realized he hadn’t been breathing. His legs were shaky and limp, and a drop of sweat was traveling down his cheek. Something kept pulsing in his brain, and he was sure it had to be his own heart. His stomach, on the other hand, seemed to be completely gone.

“I trust you won’t tell John about this,” Ocelot said. “All this talk of betraying would worry him, to say the least.”

Slowly, Kaz nodded again.

“Well, thank for your priceless lesson, Kaz,” Ocelot said. He twirled the knife again as he rose back to his feet. “We both learned a lot.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As this is part of a challenge to improve my writing abilities, comments are encouraged :)


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